


You Broke Down My Walls

by stillwaterseas (phoenixflight)



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Aftercare, Dirty Talk, First Time, Fluff and Angst, Hook Up, Implied/Referenced CSA, M/M, Modern AU, Questionable Coping Mechanisms, Restraint, Rough Sex, Safewords, Semi Public Sex, noncon roleplay, scene play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-27 16:03:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17165000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixflight/pseuds/stillwaterseas
Summary: "I want you to fuck me," Laurent said, voice clear and precise. "Any way you want. As hard as you want. And you don't stop unless I safeword."





	You Broke Down My Walls

**Author's Note:**

  * For [niniblack](https://archiveofourown.org/users/niniblack/gifts).



> This is a gift for the lovely niniblack, who I was delighted to write for. This wasn't one of your prompts but I hope you like it anyway! I think I know what you're into by now... ;)  
> Big thanks to [mist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seek_The_Mist/pseuds/Seek_The_Mist) who let me write this fic almost entirely in her DMs, and encouraged me to add more dirty talk. <3  
> Title is from the Alessia Cara song "I'm Yours"  
> Mind the "chose not to warn" tag, everyone! Knives ahead...

Damen goes to Makedon's events pretty regularly, doesn't always even expect to play. He likes the scene, he has friends there. Tonight there aren't that many people he knows though, it's a slow evening. Nik was going to come, but his sister visited unexpectedly. Pallas and Lazar are here somewhere, but he’d wandered away when they headed toward the Christopher cross.

Damen is nursing a drink slowly, careful to stay on the sober side of buzzed, and leaning against the bar when he notices a flash of pale hair across the room; a young man, surveying the scene with an air of boredom. He's dressed in dark jeans and a t-shirt tight enough to show off his arms - his whole body is lean and toned like a swimmer. 

Damen's never seen him before, he's sure he would remember a face like that. Finishing his drink, he leaves the glass on the bar, crosses the room, and sidles up beside the man. "Hey."

The blond man isn't short, but he has to tip his head back to look at Damen. He raises his eyebrows, and drags his gaze deliberately down Damen's body and back up. Damen's cheeks and stomach feel pleasantly warm.

"Hey," the man says with a slight trace of an accent.

Damen leans against the wall, not quite in the other man’s space. “I'm Damen. I haven't seen you around before."

"Really? That's the line you're going to go with?" His mouth curls up at the corner.

In another situation the man's arch tone would be irritating, condescending, but it just sends an interested shiver down Damen's spine. He wonders if the man is a dom - he has the poise, the sense of control. Damen's flexible. For a face like that, very flexible. 

"Have you got a better one?" Damen asks.

"You want me to do all the work?" The man hums, "Mm, I don't think so."

Damen slouches a little against the wall, body turned toward the man. He hasn't felt this warm flush of interest so intensely in ages. The man has his hands in his pockets, watching him from under his eyelashes.

“Ok, try this one. I’m Damen, what’s your name, gorgeous?” 

The man’s mouth curls up at the corners. “Laurent,” he says, and the faint accent draws the name out. “But that’s hardly a pick-up line.” 

“Fair,” Damen grins. “Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?”

“Over-used,” Laurent says, waving a hand dismissively. “Try another.” 

“Is it hot in here or is it just you?” 

“Mmm. Lacks panache.” 

“Panache?” Damen snorts. Who even talks like that? “How ‘bout this one: ever been arrested? Cuz you’re criminally good looking.” 

Laurent actually laughs out loud, and it’s a bright, pleasant sound. “Someone should arrest  _ you _ for crimes against comedy.”

Damen is smiling too, his cheeks are aching. "Oh, come on, you've gotta like one of them."

Laurent raises his eyebrows and something wicked gleams in his eyes. "Do I? Make me."

This isn't Damen's first rodeo. He lets himself slouch a little further into Laurent's personal space, and gives him an intent look. "Make you like it?"

Laurent tips his chin up. "If you think you can."

Damen feels a shiver of heat run through him. He's starting to get hard, his whole body tuned toward Laurent. It's the intoxicating edge of something new, and he forces himself to take a deep breath, breathe through the desire to crowd Laurent back against the wall and kiss him. "You want to play, let's talk," he says, letting the heavy flirtation drop out of his voice.

Laurent's eyes flicker away and his body curls a little, but he nods. Damen leans back to give him space. Talking about it is always awkward, he understands. Laurent doesn't have the wide-eyed look of someone new to the scene, but he does look young.

“What kind of play are you interested in?” 

“I just told you,” Laurent said, rolling his eyes. “Do I have to spell it out for you?”

“Please,” Damen says, immovable, and watches Laurent’s eyes darken a little as he absorbs the attitude. 

“I want you to fuck me,” Laurent says, each word precisely enunciated and clear even under the thump of the music, making heat roll through Damen, “as hard as you want, any way you want. And you don’t stop unless I safeword.” 

“Even if you say no,” Damen asks, just to be sure. 

Laurent meets his gaze steadily. “That’s what I said.” 

“What’s your safeword?” 

“Red,” Laurent says, voice steady and Damen swallows. 

“Then that’s all I need to know.” Leaning in, Damen props one hand on the wall on the other side of Laurent’s shoulders, not truly trapping him but boxing him in with his body, and watches Laurent’s breath hitch. Damen bends his head and kisses Laurent, feeling soft lips part and the slick slide of a tongue against his. Then Laurent nips him, hard. 

Startled, Damen rears back, and narrows his eyes. Laurent bares his teeth in a grin, and leans up for another kiss, dragging his body against Damen’s front. With a growl, Damen kisses him back, leaning his weight against Laurent and bearing him into the wall. They kiss roughly, biting at one another's mouths, all teeth and spit. Damen is achingly hard in his jeans by now, and he can feel Laurent's erection too, rocking against his thigh. 

Damen groans against Laurent's lips and pulls away to pant. He glances toward the back room of the club, where a dozen private alcoves are shielded from view by curtains. A couple are empty. “Shall we?” 

Laurent raises his eyebrows. “What part of  _ make me _ did you not understand?” He sounds breathless. 

Sliding an arm around Laurent’s waist, Damen bends his knees and hoists him up. Damen’s not sure what to expect - resistance maybe, given their game. He thinks if Laurent fights him he can sling him over his shoulder and still carry him, even though Laurent isn’t as light as he looks - he’s compact muscle. But Laurent doesn’t fight, just squeaks and clutches at Damen’s shoulders. 

"You're gonna hold onto me just like that while I fuck you," he whispers, and feels Laurent squirm and shake his head. "I'm going to make you beg." They stumble into an empty alcove, and Damen drops Laurent to pull the curtain across.

There’s a low couch in the alcove, the cushions unknowably stained, and just enough room to lean against the opposite wall. It’s dim, lit by a nightlight with an incongruous smiling crescent moon on its plastic exterior, and by the pulsing of the blue and purple club lights that filter in around the curtain. The music pounds, not too loud, but bone-deep. Damen feels anticipation expanding in his chest. 

He turns and reaches for Laurent, but Laurent puts his hands on his chest and shoves him away. He doesn't look upset, he looks... anticipatory, like he's waiting to see what Damen will do.

Damen feels a flush of heat through his belly. He grabs Laurent’s arm and shoves him against the wall, face first. Laurent tries to twist away, bringing his elbow up to jab at Damen’s side, but Damen catches his wrist and pins the arm above his head, bringing his other up also and holding them together in one hand. Laurent’s ass is pressed snuggly against his groin and Damen rocks against him. 

Laurent makes a noise - somewhere between a whimper and a protest - that goes straight to Damen’s cock. He’s tugging against Damen’s grip on his wrists but not hard. 

Damen slides his free hand down Laurent’s stomach to the bulge in his tight jeans, palming him through them. “Take these off,” he grunts. 

“No.” It’s barely a breath of a word, but Damen feels it all the way down to his gut. He growls and presses Laurent more heavily against the wall. Laurent arches back against him, rubbing his ass against Damen’s hard-on. 

"Brat," Damen mutters, fumbling one-handed with the button on Laurent's jeans. Getting them open, finally, he drags them down around Laurent’s thighs, and reaches for the condom and packets of lube in his own back pocket. Doing everything one handed slows him down, and Laurent is no help, laughing at him as he fumbles with the condom, almost dropping it. Damen swears, pops the button on his own pants, rips the packet open with his teeth and rolls the condom on. 

Laurent stops laughing when slides his cock between Laurent’s ass cheeks and presses the head to his hole. With no lube and no prep, it’s just enough pressure to be a threat rather than a tease. Laurent goes still and tense under him. “You’re not…” he says, voice high. 

“No,” Damen rumbles in his ear, and feels Laurent shiver very slightly. “But I could. Remember that.” 

Tearing the lube open, he spills it messily over his fingers and slides two inside Laurent abruptly. Laurent jerks, and breathes out harshly through his teeth. “You’re an animal,” he snarls. His hands, still trapped above his head, are curled into fists. He’s exquisitely tight around Damen’s fingers, and when Damen curls them inside him, rocking his hand a little, Laurent’s whole body trembles. 

Damen clicks his tongue disapprovingly. “Watch your mouth, or I’ll have to put something in it.” He feels tension snap through Laurent’s body, hears the rhythm of his breath change, and files that away. Instead, he ducks his head and presses his cheek against Laurent’s shoulder blade, dropping a quick, soft kiss at the base of his neck. It’s an impulsive, intimate gesture, possessive and reassuring, not something he would normally do with a hookup at a club. Something about Laurent makes Damen feel like the edges of his control are unravelling. 

He slides a third finger into him, and Laurent’s body opens for it, Laurent canting his hips back a little to give Damen better access. “You want this,” Damen whispers in his ear, and Laurent makes an inarticulate noise of denial. “You open up so easily for me. You’re gonna look so beautiful taking my cock.” 

Laurent tips his head forward, exposing more of his long neck, and Damen kisses him again, tasting salt on his tongue. The barely-there touch makes Laurent shiver and his breath hitches. Something tender flares under Damen’s breastbone, and he feels the intensity of the scene slip a little. He lets his lips rest against Laurent’s skin, rocking his fingers into him steady and slow, enjoying the moment, listening to the tiny inconsistencies in Laurent’s breathing.  

Finally he withdraws his hand, savoring the little whine that Laurent makes at the loss, and strokes his slick hand down his cock. He’s still fully dressed, Laurent with just his jeans yanked down to his knees. Damen presses the head of his cock to Laurent’s hole and pushes inside. 

Laurent makes a tiny, quickly swallowed noise, body tense as a bow, arched between Damen’s grip and the floor. He pulls out a little, and Laurent’s squeezes around him, reluctant to let him go. Damen closes his eyes, savoring the exquisite clutch of Laurent’s hole around his cock, the resistance giving away to an almost hungry grip. They are both panting, loud in the little alcove. Outside the curtain is the pulse of music and the voices and laughter of other people. There is the faint sound of slapping flesh and grunting from an alcove nearby. Damen rests his forehead against Laurent’s neck and breathes in the smell of him. 

Then Damen rolls his hips a little, changing the angle, and Laurent makes a strangled sound, clenching around Damen’s dick, and Damen groans. He adjusts his grip on Laurent’s wrists, getting the other hand on his waist to steady him, and begins to thrust into him, hard and steady. Laurent is gasping softly. 

Every thrust rocks Laurent up on his tiptoes, his body stretched out with his hands above his head, lean and gorgeous. His neck is tender and exposed and Damen gives in to the urge to bite it, sucking a mark low down, where he can hide it with a collared shirt. Lips still against Laurent’s neck, he whispers, “I knew you would love this.” 

“No,” Laurent gasps, hips hitching back into Damen’s thrusts. 

Damen presses more weight against his wrists, making Laurent wince and squirm. “Don’t lie to me,” he growls, hips snapping. 

“Men like you,” Laurent grits out, between thrusts, “always think -  _ mmph _ \- their cocks are something -  _ ah _ \- special.” 

“Is that right?” Laurent’s head is tipped forward, face hidden. Damen wants to see him. He pulls out abruptly, making Laurent hiss. 

When he releases Laurent’s wrists, Laurent sags back against him. Damen doesn’t give him time to recover. Spinning him around Damen yanks Laurent’s pants down and off, slides his arms under Laurent's thighs and hoists him up, back pressed against the wall. Laurent gasps, fingers digging painfully into Damen's biceps.

Damen doesn't have much leverage to thrust with Laurent held off the ground, but his cock is buried all the way to the root, and he just has to rock slightly to make Laurent whimper. Damen can see his face now too, even though Laurent is curled forward, with his head lowered. He's panting; his cheeks are red and so is his mouth, open and wet.

Laurent's cock curves against his stomach, flushed and glistening at the tip, leaving shiny smears as it bounces against his stomach. “Look at how hard you are,” Damen murmurs, mostly to himself. “You’re beautiful like this. Desperate.” 

Laurent squirms and scowls, hips rolling, hands clenching and unclenching on Damen’s arms, forehead resting against Damen’s chest. 

“Do you want more?” Damen asks, a little breathless. Laurent lifts his head to glare at him. “I can do this all day,” Damen continues. “Deep and slow.” He rolls his hips in a little tease to demonstrate. “If you want more, you’ll have to ask.” 

“Fuck you,” Laurent manages, his voice hoarse. 

“Not quite.” Damen’s fingers are digging deep into the meat of Laurent’s upper thighs as he supports his weight against the wall. He can feel Laurent’s hot breath against his chest. Sweat is sticking his tee shirt to his back. He wants to play with Laurent’s cock, break his composure, but Damen needs both hands to hold him up. 

Instead, Damen leans in and licks Laurent’s neck. Laurent jerks his head back, making a derisive noise, and Damen follows him, kissing and licking at his exposed throat. He nibbles at the sensitive place beneath Laurent’s jaw, and feels him shudder. 

The more light and teasing Damen is, the harder Laurent clenches around his cock. Damen grins against his skin. “You love it. I bet I could make you come on my cock just from kissing you, that’s how eager you are.” 

“You overestimate yourself,” Laurent says, breathless. 

“Do I?” Biceps straining, Damen lifts Laurent up, rolling his hips so just the tip of his cock is inside Laurent’s hole, and then lets gravity pull him back down, hard. 

Laurent chokes and swears at the slide of Damen’s full length inside him. “Put me down, you brute!”  

“Put you down?” Without ceremony, Damen takes two steps, holding Laurent, and dumps him on the couch, flipping him onto his stomach. Laurent gets to his knees and tries to crawl away but Damen grips his hips, yanking him back, ass in the air. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” Damen growls. 

“Get off me,” Laurent gasps as Damen presses his glistening cock into Laurent’s red, gaping hole. He makes a strangled sound, clawing at the worn fabric of the cushions. “ _ Fuck _ .” 

Damen holds him in place and presses in relentlessly. Laurent mewls and writhes, pushing his ass back into Damen’s thrusts, relaxing for him, even as he pulls against Damen’s grip around his waist, fighting him. The contrast of the game they’re playing is so hot that Damen has to stop, pressed deep inside Laurent, to catch his breath and get control of himself before he comes. He’s not ready to be done yet. 

Putting a hand in the middle of Laurent’s back, he presses down, making Laurent arch sweetly. Damen bends over behind him, letting his heat and weight bear down on Laurent, trapping him as he finds a rhythm with his cock. Laurent’s fingers are curled into fists as Damen’s hips snap. He makes a tiny sound in his throat with every thrust and heat pools urgently in Damen’s belly. 

“You look so good like this, taking my cock.” He’s barely tracking the words coming out of his own mouth, half out of his mind with pleasure. “You’re perfect.”

“Shut up,” Laurent pants, and rakes his nails down Damen’s arm. 

Damen groans, and pounds him harder. His balls are slapping against Laurent’s ass, the sounds of their fucking loud in the small space. The air stinks of sex. “So fucking perfect. Made for me. All mine.” 

“No.” Laurent’s voice is shaking, sweat standing out between his shoulder blades, slick under Damen’s hand.

“Yes.” He lifts Laurent’s hips higher to get a better angle, and Laurent cries out, face buried in his arms. “I’m going to fuck you so good you’ll never want anyone else.” 

“ _ No _ ,” Laurent gasps. He sounds wild, almost frightened. He’s trembling all over and his voice cracks suddenly. “Uncle, please.” 

Damen’s heard them all before- daddy, uncle, master, sir - so he rolls with it. “Please, what? Please harder? Please more? You’re desperate for this, aren’t you? Desperate for Uncle’s cock?” 

Laurent shudders, tightening around Damen’s cock, and shakes his head so violently that Damen has to rear back to keep from banging his nose into the back of Laurent’s head. “No!” he chokes.“Please don’t! Stop!” 

Sliding the hand on Laurent’s chest down to cup his cock, Damen finds him rock hard, slick at the tip. “I don’t think you want me to stop. Feel how hard you are? Dripping wet for me?” 

Laurent makes a wild, choked noise and writhes on Damen’s dick, trapped beneath his body. “Don’t, don’t, don’t,” he’s gasping. It’s so broken and vehement that Damen feels a flicker of worry but Laurent had been very clear -  _ don’t stop unless I safeword.  _

He’s reassured by how hard Laurent’s cock is in his hand - he can almost feel him throbbing. Laurent shudders as Damen strokes him. He’s leaking copiously, slick and twitching in Damen’s grasp. His whole body is taut, trembling. 

Putting his mouth against Laurent’s ear, Damen whispers, "Are you gonna come on Uncle's cock like a good boy?"

Laurent sobs, clenching down on Damen’s cock almost hard enough to hurt. His cock jerks in Damen’s hand, but doesn’t spill. He feels his own orgasm rushing up; he pounds into him and strokes Laurent’s cock faster, fingers slick, to bring him off first. They’re both so close. 

And then Laurent gasps, “Red.  _ Red _ .” 

Damen freezes, pressed inside Laurent. Laurent is trembling, face turned away, pressed into the couch cushions. Damen’s cock is throbbing, his head hazy with arousal and his body buzzing with the spike of adrenaline that comes when someone safewords. Taking three deep breaths, Damen gathers up the shreds of his control and composure and manages to say, “I’m going to pull out now.” 

Laurent nods, still hiding his face. The slide of Damen’s cock out of him makes them both shudder. Damen steps away immediately, giving Laurent space, and Laurent sags when Damen’s arms leave him, slowly collapsing sideways onto the couch. Damen catches a glimpse of his face, red and tear-streaked, and Damen’s chest aches. “Do you need space? Do you want me to put a hand on your back?” 

There’s a pause, and then Laurent shakes his head. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles. 

“Hey, don’t be sorry. Is there anything I can do?” Again Laurent shakes his head. “I’m going to go get you a glass of water, then. I’ll be right back.” He tugs the button of his jeans closed over his half-hard cock, and steps out of the alcove. Although the rest of the club is hot and stinks of cologne and sweat, the air feels fresh and slightly cool after the close confines behind the curtain. Damen takes a moment to adjust himself in his pants. The head of his cock is almost painfully sensitive against the denim, and his balls are aching. 

By the time he gets back from the bar, with a glass of cold water dripping condensation between his fingers, Damen’s gotten ahold of himself a little. It’s not like it’s the first time it’s happened, but having someone safeword is always jarring. He knocks lightly on the wall outside the alcove and ducks back through the curtain. 

Laurent has pulled his pants back on and smoothed his hair. If it weren’t for the tension in his posture, and a slight redness in his eyes, you’d never know anything had happened. He’s sitting on the couch with one knee drawn up to his chest, arms around it. He glances up when Damen comes in, takes the water and looks away. 

Damen rubs his damp palms against his jeans. “Do you want me to stay?” 

"I’m fine" Laurent takes a sip of the water, not looking at him. 

"Ok. But, do you want me to stay? We can sit quiet a little longer." 

“I said, I’m  _ fine _ you don't have to babysit me." 

That wasn’t a ‘no’. "I don't mind." 

Laurent breathes out harshly and rubs a hand over his face. "Really, you don't have to deal with my shit, I've got it. I'm fine, I promise.” He snorts. “I'm in therapy and everything. Go and enjoy the party." 

Damen fiddles with the hem of his tee shirt. "I’ll go if you really want me to. But, I'm exactly where I want to be."

Laurent drops his head back against the wall with a thunk, and mutters something under his breath that sounds like,  _ stubborn brute.  _

Damen takes a seat at the opposite end of the couch, not close enough to touch. They sit silently for a while, listening to the thump of the music and voices from outside the alcove, and faintly, the grunts and slapping sounds of sex.

Finally, Laurent says, "I don't usually do that."

"Roleplay?" Damen asks.

"Safeword."

"You don't have to explain."

"No, I know. I just." He lets out a breath of humorless laughter. "I liked it."

Damen makes a noise to show he's listening, afraid of disrupting whatever is happening in Laurent's head. 

"I liked it and then..." Laurent's eyes are slitted open, gleaming in the low light. "And then I still liked it, and... I didn't want to like it anymore."

Damen can hear the weight in Laurent's words, feel the fragile thing unrolling between them, something more open and vulnerable than sex; more honest than the desperate arch of Laurent under him, or the slide of Damen's cock in him. "I'm sorry," he says softly. "I liked it too. But I wanted it to be good for you."

Laurent's lips quirk - almost a smile. "You're sweet."

"Was there anything I could have done differently?" Damen asks carefully.

"No. It wasn't you, it's me," Laurent says, in a sort of sing song tone. "I'm pretty fucked up, if you couldn't tell."

Damen protests, a soft noise in his throat, trying to think of what to say to that.  _ No you're not _ wasn't right, neither was  _ we all are _ because that wasn't true.  _ I want you anyway _ was too much truth. "I don't mind," he say finally.

Laurent quirks an eyebrow like he doesn't quite believe that, but says nothing, just draws his legs up to his chest and wraps his arms around them, chin nestled between his bony knees. He looks young like this, and terribly alone. Damen wants to touch him, stroke his hair off his forehead, rub his back, put an arm around him and draw him close, but he knows he can't. Laurent is staring straight ahead at the tattered fabric of the curtain, eyes blank and far away. After a long moment, he says so softly that Damen almost doesn't hear, "I never said no to him."

Damen’s stomach turns over, and he must make some kind of noise because Laurent huffs out a breath and says, “Fuck, sorry. Forget I said anything. It’s really,  _ really _ not your problem.” 

“No, I…” Damen stops, not sure what to say, wary of saying too much. “I like you. I’d understand if you never want to see me again, but. If you wanted to get coffee sometime, I'd like that."

Laurent eyes him sideways “Really? After all this?”

"Yeah, really.” Damen laughs a little at the exaggerated skepticism on Laurent’s face. “It really wasn't that big of a deal and… I’d like to see you again. I mean, no pressure, or anything."

Laurent is silent for a long moment, and then says, “Give me your number.” 

Damen puts his number in Laurent’s phone, and then Laurent slips out of the alcove with a murmured, “Goodnight, Damen.” When Damen steps out after him, he’s vanished like smoke into the crowd, and Damen thinks, with a pang of regret, that he’ll probably never see Laurent again. 

 

A couple of weeks later, Damen is stepping out of the shower on a Tuesday morning when his phone chimes. His hands are wet so he ignores it, towelling himself dry, and starting to dress for work. It isn’t until he’s on his way out the door, travel cup of coffee in hand, that he remembers to check his texts, and when he does, he almost trips over the curb. It’s just two sentences, from an unknown number. 

_ I’m ready for more terrible pick up lines. Lunch date?  _

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are love!  
> Come scream with me on tumblr [@stillwaterseas](http://stillwaterseas.tumblr.com/) or at my fandom side blog [@seas-of-ios](https://seas-of-ios.tumblr.com/)


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